Chapter 158 : Demon Monk Wuxiang
The glass lamp had been stolen, right under the noses of the two people and one tiger.
Yun Qingyue and Tan Xin's expressions changed simultaneously, as both realized the same possibility—the previous demonic cultivators were merely cannon fodder, and the true culprit had been waiting in the wings. For someone to snatch the glass lamp right in front of them, they were surely no ordinary character.
Nevertheless, they couldn't possibly allow a Buddhist treasure to fall into the hands of demonic cultivators, so without further discussion, they prepared to give chase.
Yun Qingyue, having stood to observe Tan Xin paying respects to Buddha, was positioned closer to the pagoda window. She turned and leaped out of the pagoda in one motion. Surveying the air around her, she immediately spotted traces of demonic energy in the southeast direction and pursued without hesitation. Although the white tiger emerged a step behind her, its flying speed surpassed hers. With a burst of acceleration, it not only caught up but also allowed Yun Qingyue to mount its back as they gave chase together.
The woman and tiger moved swiftly, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Tan Xin, only slightly slower than them, had also emerged from the pagoda, but just before leaving, he suddenly felt something. He turned back once more to look at the decayed Buddha statue...
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The white tiger ran with tremendous speed, like the wind and lightning, with the surrounding scenery hastily retreating behind them. This was Yun Qingyue's first time being carried by the white tiger while fully conscious, and the experience felt quite novel. She gripped the fur at the back of the tiger's neck to stabilize herself, simultaneously noticing the difference between the large white tiger and the small white cat.
Although fundamentally still a cub, after transforming to its larger size, the white tiger's fur was no longer soft but hard as steel needles.
Yun Qingyue dedicated half her attention to the white tiger, but most of her focus remained undoubtedly on the opponent they would soon face—the white tiger pursued rapidly, following the trail of what had initially been just a trace of demonic energy.
The disturbance at Foguang Temple had caused the formation outside to break, and the previously endless rain had stopped.
The white tiger, feet not touching the ground, pursued for hundreds of miles before finally spotting another... or more accurately, two other figures. It suddenly paused, tilting its head with some confusion and saying: "A monk?"
Indeed, appearing before the woman and tiger was a monk in red robes. His head was shaved exceedingly clean, reflecting light in the sunshine, with nine weathered ordination scars on his scalp that couldn't be faked. Apart from the somewhat unusual red robes, he resembled all Buddhist practitioners—exuding compassion and serenity all over, seemingly worlds apart from the malevolent demonic cultivators.
In stark contrast to this monk was his mount—a beast resembling an elephant, similar to the elephants in Jiang Mo's knowledge, with a massive body, fan-like ears, and a long trunk. But compared to ordinary elephants, its skin had a metallic luster, and it possessed not just one pair of tusks but three. Each tusk was exceptionally sharp, faintly emitting a bloody aura, suggesting that numerous people or beasts had perished beneath them.
This was a demonic elephant! Its crimson eyes and the demonic energy surrounding its body all testified to this fact.
The white tiger's gaze was drawn to the massive demonic elephant, but Yun Qingyue's eyes remained fixed on the red-robed monk. She frowned, with a flicker of confusion and uncertainty passing through her glazed pupils: "Demon Monk Wuxiang?!"
The red-robed monk smiled upon hearing this, presenting a remarkably serene appearance: "Indeed, it is this poor monk."
Yun Qingyue's body suddenly tensed, assuming a defensive posture, her hand gripping the white tiger's neck fur tightening involuntarily. Yet she verbally contradicted: "Impossible. Demon Monk defected from the Buddha Sect and fell into demonic ways three hundred years ago. This Canglán Secret Realm has age restrictions—only cultivators under fifty years of age may enter. If you truly are Demon Monk, how could you possibly enter?"
Wuxiang seemed good-natured, showing no irritation at her words, instead explaining in a gentle voice: "What's so impossible about that? Female benefactor must be from one of the three righteous sects. Your sect elders cannot enter the secret realm simply because they are unwilling to enter. For someone like me, I merely need to separate a strand of my divine soul and occupy a young vessel. What could prevent me from entering this Canglán Secret Realm?!"
He spoke casually, but the reality was entirely different. Yun Qingyue heard only madness in his placid words—soul separation wasn't difficult; powerful cultivators who had reached the Spirit Division realm could achieve it. But when ordinary cultivators separated a strand of their soul, they typically sealed it somewhere, such as in a jade token, to serve as a life-saving measure for their disciples.
This approach, apart from losing some vital energy, wouldn't burden the cultivator. Since the separated soul remained sealed, unconscious and unaware, it had no impact on the cultivator.
But Wuxiang's soul separation was clearly different. He could actually use his separated soul to occupy another's body, which meant the separated soul couldn't be too small. Moreover, this separated soul wasn't sealed but remained active, with memories and experiences affecting it... this was hardly different from forcibly splitting a person into two.
If Jiang Mo knew about this, she could easily describe it—this was dissociative identity disorder!
Yun Qingyue didn't know the term "dissociative identity disorder," but she looked at Wuxiang as if he were insane. Simultaneously, the alarm bells in her mind rang loudly—who knew how powerful a strand of soul from a Spirit Division cultivator could be?!
After finishing his explanation, Wuxiang silently watched her, seemingly waiting for her to continue questioning. After waiting a while and seeing that Yun Qingyue didn't speak again, he pressed his palms together and said: "Amitabha, has the female benefactor finished her questions?"
Yun Qingyue remained silent, but her hand grasped the hilt of the Fuxue Sword, her vigilance reaching its peak.
Wuxiang's expression remained unchanged. No longer waiting for her to speak, he continued: "Female benefactor shouldn't have pursued. This poor monk did not wish to create more bloodshed, intending to take what I came for and leave. But since you've come... you must stay."
As his words fell, Wuxiang's hand rose, tossing a purple-gold alms bowl into the air. The originally palm-sized purple-gold bowl expanded upon meeting the wind, suddenly becoming larger than a house. Wrapped in golden-red light, it covered the sky like a canopy, descending upon Yun Qingyue—under the bowl's coverage, when Jiang Mo looked up, she had the illusion of White Snake encountering Fahai.
"Quickly dodge," urged Yun Qingyue, not raising her sword to block but instead patting the white tiger's back.
Hearing this, the white tiger naturally didn't hesitate, springing away on all fours to escape from under the purple-gold bowl. Just as she broke through the golden-red light barrier, the previously calm Wuxiang finally let out a light "Oh?"
However, no one paid attention to this exclamation of surprise, as the white tiger, intimately familiar with Yun Qingyue, had already noticed her abnormal reaction. As soon as they escaped, it anxiously turned its head and asked: "Senior Sister, are you alright?"
Yun Qingyue leaped down from the white tiger's back, her beautiful face slightly pale as she shook her head: "I'm fine."
That purple-gold bowl was Wuxiang's signature magical treasure, emitting Buddha-light that suppressed enemies. After he fell into demonic ways, the bowl seemed to have been tainted with murderous energy. Under the golden-red light's coverage, Yun Qingyue felt as if an immense weight pressed down from above, almost rendering her immobile. If not for the white tiger being unaffected, she might have been captured on the spot.
Jiang Mo didn't know these details and couldn't feel the bowl's suppression on herself, but she could tell her senior sister wasn't faring well against the demon monk. She immediately stepped forward to shield her senior sister behind her, declaring: "Senior Sister, leave this monk to me."
As Yun Qingyue was about to speak, Wuxiang laughed from across the way: "So it truly is the divine White Tiger... Perfect, I've been needing a tiger skin cushion."
At these words, the white tiger's fur instantly bristled. Fortunately, after previous events, she knew the demon monk before her wouldn't be easy to deal with. Before charging forward, she first asked the system: "System, this guy is so arrogant, help me check his level."
The system didn't respond verbally, only silently activating combat mode.
Thus, in the white tiger's vision, level and health bars suddenly appeared above Wuxiang—
[Opponent: Demon Monk Wuxiang (□□)
Level: 55
Health: 1,358,000,000/1,358,000,000]
The white tiger's eager paw instantly halted. Though boss health in games was always thick, and though her character panel didn't display her own health so she didn't know how much she had, that level 55 was enough to make the tiger despair.
If she remembered correctly, her level was 47 before leaving seclusion to rush to Mingzong Mountain. After entering the Canglán Secret Realm, between eating grass and consuming lotus roots, her level had increased by just over 2, and now she was still a bit short of 50... Though 49 and 55 differed by only 6 levels, this represented the difference between late Nascent Soul and middle Void Crossing—nearly an entire major realm's difference. Unless this demon monk was a fraud, how could such a level gap be easily overcome?
Was the demon monk before her a fraud? The string of prayer beads he actively threw told her: No!
Since Wuxiang had fallen into demonic ways and earned the title of "Demon Monk," he was naturally not someone to be trifled with. Having declared he wanted the white tiger's skin for a cushion, he certainly wouldn't show mercy. Seeing that the purple-gold bowl's suppression had little effect on the white tiger, he simply recalled it with a wave of his hand, then tossed out a string of prayer beads from around his neck.
The string contained one hundred and eight beads. As they were thrown, golden talismans flashed on each one. Those unaware might have thought this was some righteous magical treasure, but in reality, those talismans were used to seal vicious souls.
Wuxiang's vision was far superior to the previous lead demonic cultivator's. The one hundred and eight prayer beads sealed one hundred and eight vicious souls, each exceedingly ferocious. In life, they had either been murderous villains, calamitous beasts, or remnant souls trapped in ancient battlefields for countless millennia... He had sealed them in the prayer beads, chanting sutras day and night not to deliver them but to thoroughly incite their ferocity.
Now as Wuxiang threw the prayer beads, the sealing talismans flickered several times before disappearing. The vicious souls within the beads were instantly liberated, rushing out all at once, nearly completely blocking the sky and light like a dark canopy.
The next moment, these vicious souls, as if instructed, pounced toward the white tiger with claws extended and fangs bared.
The scene was more terrifying than any ghost movie Jiang Mo had ever watched. She instinctively wanted to retreat but then remembered her senior sister was still being protected behind her. Summoning her courage, she released her spiritual energy, immediately causing golden light to burst forth around her body.
As a divine beast and an auspicious creature, the white tiger's golden light was not only sharp but also auspicious, naturally countering ghosts and similar entities.
Sure enough, as soon as those vicious souls entered the golden light's range, they were immediately scorched. They emitted painful wails, truly like ghosts crying and wolves howling—not only piercing to the ears but also capable of causing one's soul to waver.
Yun Qingyue, protected behind the white tiger, instantly felt her head spin, nearly falling. She barely stabilized herself by plunging her sword into the ground. Although the white tiger possessed a powerful divine soul and had the system's protection, remaining unaffected by the vicious souls' howls, her situation wasn't good either—these souls, after being scorched, didn't retreat but became even more ferocious, disregarding the damage from the golden light as they came forward to tear and rip.
This wasn't ineffective—as the vicious souls savagely tore and even bit, the golden light around the white tiger truly dimmed somewhat. Jiang Mo clearly felt their actions affecting her, with an inexplicably cold sensation assaulting her.
The white tiger involuntarily shuddered, experiencing discomfort both physically and psychologically.